ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 9

SPECULATION
the possession of life...


TO COUNT FOR WHAT
eyes scrape the borderland of no...


WHERE I AM/HAVE BEEN
our decisions are so small...


VIEW OF EARTH FROM MY HOUSE
stars out a light breeze...


MY FIRST LANGUAGE
alive in this time...


10/20/97
steadily consuming the purple-sweetness...


POSTCARD
I write to you from...


HERE
the beast and the waves...


LYRIC
moving through the dark...


APPLICATION
please send more poems...


IN THE DARK
friends the dark as much as you...


FOOTNOTE TO IN THE DARK
those who disappeared while still alive...


NOVEMBER
cold weather settles me...


WITHOUT CLOTHES
the right temperature for singing...


TO THE ASIAN MARKETS
we can be proud of our success...


3/1/98
the sunday walk a path...


REFUSAL TO MAKE MUSIC
I have lost my ears the silence is so large in them...


WEDNESDAY MORNING
with the sudden cold...


MY WINDOW
wonderful day...


untitled
sun flees we pursue...


MY WISHES
steady hand...


ON HIS WORK
bright from the roots...


THE LAST TIME I WAS AT YOUR HOUSE
while I snorted and rolled over...


untitled
sun's careful stroking breaks the frost...


untitled
there were some the wind dried some...


untitled
sun slant the wind dies moist...


FOLLOWING
the laws of migration over the ground...


HOW IT HAS BEEN
half dark or near dark...


THE TASK
There is a god or goddess for first ...


THINGS THAT ARE AND ARE NOT POEMS
things that kill us...


FRAGMENT
Doesn't. And complies again, removes the robe, there is the soft...


DREAMED OF MY EX-WIFE
We were selling a house back to the couple we had bought it from....


GRUMBLE
no other life has been given me...


11/1/98
the world sleeps...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM LALIC
a weight of fire brought home...


untitled
in another dream a pickled man...


AFTER HOURS
red flare west through the trees...


WHERE I STAND WITH HIM
a gift of storms bursts open...


DANCE OF LOVE
I couldn't touch the dancers' radiance...


DECEIVED MYSELF THINKING
of a poetry only...

Listen!


NAKED AGAIN


It's night and I'm naked again
so there is no barrier between my sleep and yours,
I come to you nakedly to tell you
your dreams are real,

you do have to wash away the green clay of our making
outdoors, before thousands,
you do have to tell your father it makes no difference
that he sleeps with a woman younger than you,
though it does--and when you tell yourself
they can do as they please, you'll just watch TV,
you must realize the TV is in the bedroom with them,

and when you say never mind I'll smoke some pot,
you must remember they have the pot, too,
and when you rise, you will see
a man with a shaven head wearing a black skirt,
he is dancing on one foot but he does not spill his coffee,
he is singing his dream, which is of being told
to accept the manifold true ways of the Buddha,
he is joyous that he has awakened and does not
have to accept this or any other dream as true, he begs
to remind you, though, that the decision is ours,

to accept or not to accept, and it is made nakedly,
standing on the green clay, there will be footprints,
they will harden in the sun and hold forever the pattern,
the point of balance can be seen and the joint that carries
the heaviest weight, the callouses are outlined clearly,
but who will be there to read them?